


Trying To Understand Starlight

by twinpines



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Romance, The X-Files Revival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6184432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinpines/pseuds/twinpines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The definition of myself goes like this: me, you, and that road we drove on for eight hours at a time, and when you asked me if I wanted to stop I lied because I wanted to keep seeing your face backlit by the half moon; I wanted you to touch my hair when you thought I had finally fallen asleep and I wanted to feel your gaze on me at the red-lights when you thought I wasn't looking--God, I just wanted you, in every way there is to want someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying To Understand Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the revival, or before. Scully sees Mulder in a crowd and these are her thoughts (and remembrances) once she gets home. It's a bit more sentimental than she would ever be--or admit to being--but I imagine she might have thought it, all the same. It's a short stream of consciousness ramble. Forgive me.

Yesterday I saw the back of your head in a crowd and oh--it was like coming into myself again, coming home--and oh, it was more than I ever imagined. You have me dangling over myself like a ghost; I don't know what I'm doing.

In the sunlight I still see your face; in mirrors I see you behind me, holding me to your body like we were once separated, and that was going back again--coming home. Your arms around my waist, and your hands--tanned in that summer, God how I loved them--resting on my hips, fingers spread wide.

The definition of myself goes like this: me, you, and that road we drove on for eight hours at a time, and when you asked me if I wanted to stop I lied because I wanted to keep seeing your face backlit by the half moon; I wanted you to touch my hair when you thought I had finally fallen asleep and I wanted to feel your gaze on me at the red-lights when you thought I wasn't looking--God, I just wanted you, in every way there is to want someone. 

When you hold me to you I swear I see starlight.

Did I love you back then? God, there are a thousand definitions of love, and ours defied all of them--ours re-defined them all.

You were the air I wish I had been breathing. You were everything I didn't know I craved. 

There were times--our faces so close together, our noses brushing, and I was waiting for you to kiss me. You teased me, knowing what I wanted, and I would smile at you, knowing you'd give me everything--so soon. Knowing you wanted me as much as I wanted you. Knowing we would finally come together.

Knowing was easy.  
Not knowing is hard.

I love you more than the number of years we slept alone, more than all the half-assed plans that should have failed but didn't, more than the countless times I should have said to you, "I can't lose you. Please don't leave me," but didn't, simply because I was afraid--more than all the nights I caught you awake when you shouldn't have been, trying to understand starlight.

I have to feel you under me again; I have to feel your smile against my mouth, knowing that after all the years Without we were finally With--and together, even. It was more than we ever thought, more than we ever dared to ask for.

Where did it go?  
Where did you go?

I stand at the sink in my quiet apartment washing dishes and I think about that first summer in our house--our house--on the porch together every sunset, the field grass glowing orange. Your sunned skin in the daylight in our yard, you laughing at me, smiling at me. Those unguarded smiles we shared that were a long time coming.

So many times I felt the grin tugging at my mouth, teasing my lips--for those years, I didn't subdue it. I didn't control it. I laughed, Mulder. I laughed. 

You made me.

Is that really where souls reside, Mulder? In the starlight?  
If it's true--God, I hope it's true--there must be mine and yours up there, holding each other without fear, without the running. Without any pain.

I believe, now, Mulder--that when I’m looking at the starlight, I’m seeing something more than stars.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this doesn't have much of a plot--or one at all--but I enjoyed writing it. Let me know how you feel about it, good or bad.


End file.
